He stopped at Argus’s bedside and glared at him a moment. Then he pulled back the covers to see Argus’s leg. The wound was midway on the thigh. There was a large white dressing around the leg, with a red splotch in the middle of it the size of a dinner plate. He pulled the sheets back over Argus. “I allowed you to join the cross-country running team, and you used that as an excuse to go running in the evening.”

“But I—” Argus said, before being cut off by the ranger’s firm raised hand.

“Then I allowed you to run on the roads, and you used that as an excuse to go running through the forest.”

Argus lowered his eyes and looked at the floor.

“I gave you a leaf; you took the branch. I gave you a branch; you tried to take the whole tree.”

“Yes, Ranger,” Argus said, the tone of his voice leaving no doubt that he understood that what he’d done was wrong.

“You openly defied me, and now you’re going to have to accept the consequences. You are going to suffer through your recovery as a human. No shape-shifting, no changing form. Is that understood?”

“That means the cross-country season will be over by the time I’m healed.”

“That’s right,” said the ranger. “No more running for you for a while. Part of it is punishment, the rest is to save your life.”

“Yes, Ranger.”

The ranger sighed, uncomfortable with disciplining Argus by taking away the thing he loved most. He looked at Argus again, his eyes softer now. “Did you know that the gunsmith in town has been busy the past few days making silver bullets and peppering buckshot with bits of silverware and old coins?”

Argus’s face turned white.

Noble could feel the blood drain away from his face too. With the citizens of Redstone armed with silver-laced ammunition, a wound from any one of those rounds would have been fatal to any member of the pack.

“When I forbid you to do something, there’s a reason for it. That’s why I expect my instructions to be obeyed.”

Phyllis stepped forward then, putting a hand on the ranger’s arm. “I think he understands.”

Argus nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said, “for going against your wishes and for almost getting myself killed.”

“Fine,” the ranger said. Then he smiled. “Just don’t do it again.”

* * *

When Ranger Brock left the hospital room, he found Sergeant Martin waiting in the lobby, along with Ernie Ilson. It would take time, but Argus would heal from his wounds and eventually be as good as ever. In addition, he’d learned a valuable lesson through this whole ordeal.

But despite the positive outcome for the pack, there was still the matter of Ernie Ilson and his redneck “brothers.” Just because the wolf was gone and Argus shot didn’t mean the matter was over.